


all for you

by bail



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-20
Updated: 2011-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-17 03:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bail/pseuds/bail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He sighs as the warm hand comes in contact with his neck. It rests there, comfortable and unmoving for a couple of silent moments before pale, slender fingers start to dance lightly over the naked flesh in a leisurely pace that makes David shiver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all for you

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** David Cook, David Archuleta and et al. belong to themselves. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **A/N:** The story can also be read at my [fic journal](http://bail.livejournal.com/2431.html) over at livejournal. This story was written as a gift for [tankshallkill](http://tankshallkill.livejournal.com/)'s 18th birthday, prompt being 'hickeys'.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Cook presses him up against the wall, pale, muscular arms boxing him in. Cook looks at him intently, as if he is trying to heave out his soul and devour it completely. David inhales sharply, the air filling his lungs in one swift mouthful of air and burning his insides as the lungs expand. He is surprised at the unexpected act from Cook as well as his own sudden yearning for not stopping what is about to happen. Or at least what he thinks will happen - _what he kind of hopes will happen_. With Cook it is always difficult to tell; one minute he will gaze at David as if he desires him, craves his company just as much as David feels that he craves Cook's presence, and then other times he will call him kid and act all brotherly and try and set him up with some random girl.

Cook's other hand moves, and David's eyes follow it keenly as it nears his shoulder. "David," whispers Cook, and David tries to look away from the hand. It takes him a couple of seconds, but finally he manages to look up at the man standing in front of him. "Tell me to stop now," demands Cook and leans in close. David closes his eyes, unable to find the power in him to utter that one word that could end this. Because he wants this, he realizes, he wants this with every fibre in his body.

"Um," he offers and blushes, kind of glad that they are alone in the hotel room right now, so that nobody can see which effect Cook has on him. Light hazel eyes with just the tiniest speck of green to them avert to the ground (what a lovely carpet) as he tries to find his words, tongue unconsciously darting out to wet his lips that has gone dry. "I, err, I don't want you to stop, um," he finally manages to stammer out, the words barely audible in the quiet room.

"Fuck," says Cook, sounding nearly out of breath. Then the hand that is lying on his shoulder moves further up until it grazes his neck softly, almost like Cook is afraid to actually touch him. David takes a step away from the wall, towards Cook, surprising not only Cook but himself as well. He sighs as the warm hand comes in contact with his neck. It rests there, comfortable and unmoving for a couple of silent moments before pale, slender fingers start to dance lightly over the naked flesh in a leisurely pace that makes David shiver.

"Last chance," offers Cook, head tilting slightly to the side as he looks at David who in return blushes under the smouldering gaze of the rock star. David catches his lower lip between his teeth, something he tends to do when nervous, and breathes heavily through his nostrils, anxious and excited at the same time. He wants this; _oh gosh_ how much he wants this, he thinks, as his teeth abuse the plump, soft flesh. He releases the lip and opens his mouth to say something, but all that manages to escape his lips is a mumbled ‘oh'. But Cook must have understood him, for less than a second later, Cook steps forward until they are standing flushed together, chest against chest.

David can feel Cook's heartbeat against him, and knows that Cook will be able to feel his racing heart as well, and this comforts him and makes him feel oddly relaxed. Then Cook bends down a little, lips ghosting over the vein in his neck. David stills, eyes closed as he waits for whatever it is Cook is willing to offer him.

Finally, _finally_ , Cook leans down completely and presses his lips against David's neck, and it feels like heaven. The warm soft lips seems make him feel as if he his body is on fire. He does not understand what is happening, has never experienced anything like this before, but he trusts Cook and knows that Cook would never do anything to hurt him.

"Oh gosh," he mumbles, and arches into Cook's body as he feels Cook's mouth opening slightly against his skin and starts sucking. His eyes widen for a split second at that and he can feel his heart pumping faster and faster, louder and louder. Until the only sound he can hear is the heartbeat filling his ears. It is so loud that he is sure that Cook can hear it too (maybe even so loud that the people in the next room will be able to hear it).

His arms hang loosely down his sides, hands clenching into fists and unclenching again, uncertain as to what to do with his hands. He does not know if he is supposed to grab Cook's arms or if he is just supposed to stand there and _feel_ as Cook's soft lips slowly starts to worship his neck. It hurts a bit, but it also feels so amazing that he wishes for the other man to never stop.

And then Cook licks the abused flesh, velvet tongue running over the already colouring mark, which makes David completely loose any sense of reticence. And before he even gets a chance to think about whether this is right or wrong (or even what he is expected to do in a situation like this), his hands reach up and grabs hold of Cook's head, sun-kissed fingers curling around the soft, brown strands of hair that is just long enough for David's fingers to run through. And then he presses Cook's mouth closer to his skin, gasping at the feeling.

Cook grins against his neck, David can feel it; he can feel the white, square, _smooth_ teeth pressing against the vein that is throbbing under the assault, and he loves it, he realizes. He loves the feel of it, loves having Cook pressed so tightly up against him.

Cook places one last kiss on his neck, just on top of the purple spot. A hickey, he thinks, and smiles softly as Cook touches his chin and tilts his head up until he meets Cook's dark eyes that seem to gleam with something he cannot exactly pinpoint. Cook smiles mischievously, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk. As if Cook can see what effect he is having on David (though the heavy breathing and glazed over eyes is probably a good hint) as if he... And then David understands, his lips coming together in a silent ‘Oh'. Cook _wants_ him. David swallows, mouth dry and not entirely sure any longer how you inhale and exhale, because that look that Cook is giving him right now has removed any sense of how to function properly.

He trembles as a warm, slightly rough, hand touches his cheek, gently caressing it. "Fuck you are beautiful." David wants to argue with that statement, because men are not supposed to be beautiful. Handsome maybe (although David would never, in a million years use that about himself), but certainly not beautiful. And he is 18 now, which would classify him as being a man rather than a boy. "You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are, do you?" asks Cook, voice raspy and almost _silky_ against his skin as a huff of warm breath reaches his face, and David forgets that he wants to argue.

"You are," says Cook and then bends his head and presses his warm lips against David's. It is only a gentle press of lips against lips, and before David has a chance to even think about the fact that Cook is kissing him, Cook pulls back again.

"I, um," he says, no longer able to form any coherent sentences, because Cook just kissed him and he cannot stop smiling. Cook grins, voice all hoarse and deep, and David proceeds to blush again, because Cook's laughter is so amazing that just hearing it makes him all giddy.

Cook's hand runs down his arm until he reaches David's hand, their fingers interlacing together in a perfect fit. They stand like that, just for a few moments before Cook pulls him forward quickly and kisses David hard, their lips pressing together in a hot demanding kiss that completely blows David's mind. He feels his knees buckle, and he is sure that he would have fallen if it was not for Cook's other hand that darts out at the very second that his legs are about to give in and grabs his hip.

David moans when Cook's tongue run over his lips (and then colours as he realizes that he just _moaned_ ). He tentatively opens his mouth, hoping that he is doing it right, and Cook wastes no time before his tongue is plundering David's mouth. Cook's tongue is touching David's tongue, playfully twirling around David's in a slow pace that makes David crave more, and doing things to David that he had never thought possible.

Cook's grip on his hip tightens, and with a quick jerk pulls David closer. _Oh_. His eyes open, widening almost in a comical way as he feels Cook against his jeans.

The other man steps back, their hands still tangled together, and then he starts to walk backwards, gently pulling David along with him through the room. He can see the bed behind Cook which seems to get closer and closer, until finally they stop right in front of it.

David feels something inside of him coil, his stomach clenching in anticipation of what is about to come. And before Cook gets around asking him again if he is sure that he wants to do this, he nods. He wants this, in fact, he _needs_ this. He is not certain when everything changed; when he started to want Cook in ways that he probably should not, but right now he does not care, because Cook wants him too.

"Sit," says Cook, and pulls at David's hand until they have switched positions and David is now the one standing close to the bed, the back of his legs only an inch away from touching the bedcover. He does not sit though, slightly dazed that this is really happening, and slightly confused as to why he needs to sit when all he really wants to do is run his fingers through Cook's hair again and crush their lips together until he cannot remember how to breathe.

Cook's hand moves and settles on his shoulder, tip of the pale, slender fingers just barely grazing his neck below the hickey. Or love bite, as he had once heard Carly call it. He shivers, yet feels himself relaxing as the fingers starts to run back and forth across the skin in a reassuring manner for a couple of slow seconds. And then he is being pushed down on the bed, slightly bouncing as the bed gives under him. "What?" he asks, and glances up at Cook.

"Relax Archie," says Cook and smirks down at him, and David swallows apprehensively and looks up at Cook through his eyelashes, his cheeks warm and turning a faint crimson colour (again), and a shy smile gracing his lips. Cook breathes deeply and then groans as he sinks to his knees in front of David, shoulders pressing against the insides of his thighs, forcing David to spread his legs more.

"Um, oh gosh," he says before he can stop himself, and catches his lower lip between his teeth again. Cook grunts, the sound seeming to come from deep down in his throat, and David cannot help but stare amazed at the man between his legs. And though it should definitely not be possible, his blush deepens even more, his neck now slowly colouring and the tip of his ears as well, because David Cook is sitting on the floor between his legs right now.

"I'm going to take care if you," promises Cook and lets his hands wander up along David's thighs until he reaches the zipper of the black jeans and slowly, almost excruciatingly so, pulls it down, the sound ricocheting in the room as if it was bouncing from wall to wall (or maybe he is just imagining it). If it was not because he was so nervous, gasping for air, and twisting the bedcover around his fingers, then he would have pushed Cook's hand away and done it himself.

"Good things come to those who wait," says Cook, smiling, and David raises an eyebrow and looks at Cook. And then he laughs, slowly and softly. Because that is such a funny thing to say in a situation like this, he thinks. Cook, however, just smirks, which unnerves David a bit, his laughter slowly dying on his lips until all he can do is gaze at Cook.

Cook has always been handsome; David has always found himself sort of being pulled towards the man as if he was a magnet and David a piece of metal desperately clinging to it, desperately in need of a place to belong – but for a long time, it was as if the two of them could be next to each other but never really anything more. David vaguely remembers a physics class where the teacher had been talking about North Pole and South Pole magnets and how if you held them together, they would always reject each other. And he supposes that it is kind of like him and Cook in a way. Both musicians, both having been on American Idol, both similar in so many areas, but both being their own kind of magnet. Not now though, not any longer, anyway.

David is deep in thought and is for this reason startled when Cook tugs at his pants, his body jerking in a less than graceful motion. But Cook does not laugh or him or even smirk. Just smiles that breathtaking smile that makes all the fans swoon. And David too, it seems.

"Lift your hips," says Cook, voice low and gentle, and then tugs at the pants again, forcing David to lift his hips to make it easier for Cook to remove them, and he does not even have a chance to sit down again on the bed before Cook swiftly removes his boxers as well. And this is just really awkward, because now he is sitting on a hotel bed, with his shirt and tie on, and otherwise naked. And Cook is still fully clothed, which he kind of thinks is unfair.

"You, um, could you... you too?" he asks, not wanting to be the only one naked. His hands starts to reach out, fingers almost touching the hem of Cook's dark t-shirt with a print on that David does not understand what means. (He has in fact been thinking about it all night, and he knows that it is probably supposed to be some kind weird innuendo, but he just does not get it. And earlier, when he had asked Cook about it, Cook had just laughed that low laughter and tousled his hair with a warm hand.)

Cook's hands grab David's and he just shakes his head. "Not now Archie. This moment is all about you," he offers, and David swallows, amazed and dazzled and... just wow. He nods, uncertainly, and pulls his hands back again. It takes some effort, because Cook seems reluctant to release them again, but finally he does and David's hands return to the bedcover, once more twisting his fingers into the soft silk as Cook's big warm hands returns to his thighs.

"Um," he says, and glances down. But before he gets a chance to say anything else, Cook grins and leans forward, mouth opening slightly and ghosting warm, hot air at the tip of David's dick. He bucks, unable to sit still at the feeling, and for the first time _ever_ , he silently curses.

Cook's left hand stays on his thigh, but the right one moves and grabs hold on the base of David's dick, the large hand engulfing him in a scorching touch. "Oh," he gasps as his eyes go wide and mouth falling open in a slight _O_. Cook chuckles and then opens his mouth even wider, the tip of David's dick slowly disappearing into the dark velvet cave of Cook's mouth. His eyes roll as his eyelids flutter close, and he finds it incredible difficult to keep his breathing even.

He does not even notice that he is falling backwards until his head touches the bed and his hips arches up into Cook's mouth. He feels bad about it for a split second, but then Cook hums around him, and David can feel the vibrations cursing all the way up through his body as if he has been electrified. " _Gosh_ ," he mutters, voice an octave higher than normal and throws his right arm over his face, eyes closing tightly shut as he hides under the crook of his elbow.

Cook smirks around his throbbing member; David does not need to look, because he can feel the slight curve of the lips against his flesh. And suddenly everything gets warmer and wetter and he realises that Cook has taken more of him in. So far in, in fact, that he can now feel the slight stubbles of Cook's beard against his skin, and though it slightly tickles and he is this close to laughing (because he is very ticklish and always has been), he manages to contain himself, because that added sensation feels so astonishing.

"Oh, oh, oh," he stutters, and then he comes, gasping for air and seeing white as he comes before he gets a chance to really warn Cook. But Cook does not seem to mind much, he just keeps sucking and licking until David is completely spent and exhausted and speechless (which might just be a first – or, another first).

"Mm," hums Cook, and releases David's dick with a soft plop and crawls up along David's body until he is leaning over David's frame that lies limp on the bed, too amazed to talk yet. Cook places his arms on each side of David's head, smiles cheekily before lowering himself down until their lips are pressed together. David blinks, dazed still, and Cook pulls back. The other musician remains there though, hovering over him while David tries to catch his breath.

"Gosh," he says when he finally seems to be able to think again, "Oh gosh Cook, I'm so sorry I... Um, sorry I, you know, um, came, without – gosh, without warning you first," he blushes, his eyes looking everywhere at Cook's face but the eyes. Because this is just embarrassing, and he should have been able to say something before just coming.

"Don't fret," whispers Cook, and leans down again, lips ghosting over David's dry ones. He unconsciously licks his lips, his breathing starting to become a bit ragged again. "I wanted to taste you," Cook continues and tilts his head until his lips are now just above the hickey on David's neck. "And you taste fucking amazing."

His breath hitches in his throat as his mouth falls open. Cook kisses the now deep purple mark gentle, making David hiss at the slight pain, nevertheless, he also finds it very nice and kind of sweet. He closes his eyes, at long last managing to inhale and exhale properly again. Cook places kisses along his jaw, nibbling teasingly at the bone, until he once more reaches David's lips. And this time, David manages to kiss back, mouth opening and allowing Cook's tongue in when it begs for entrance.

"What about-" he starts to ask in between kisses, but Cook just hushes at him and kisses him even more passionately (though David could have sworn that was impossible). "Tonight was about you," whispers Cook against David's lips. David sighs, and allows himself to drown in the kiss; to drown himself in Cook.

 _fin._


End file.
